


maybe tomorrow will be better

by nerdytardis



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Terminal Illnesses, Torture, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 11:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdytardis/pseuds/nerdytardis
Summary: The very thing that finally brought Ethan and Benji together was now going to inevitably tear them apart.(a classic truth-serum love-confession fic, but with a tragic twist)





	maybe tomorrow will be better

**Author's Note:**

> tw for lots of talk about death and dying (and if you read this and thinks i've poorly handled the topic please tell me! i, thankfully, don't have much experience with personal loss)
> 
> title comes from "Colder Weather" by Zac Brown Band  
> sorry for the typos that i missed (i wrote this fast and didn't really proofread as much as i should have oops)  
> thanks for reading!

When Benji was little, his sisters used to tease him and call him a scaredy-cat. 

It wasn’t their fault—he was an easy target.  Far too smart for his own good, he saw how full the world was with danger and disease at a startlingly young age. 

“Stop watching those.” His mom would tell him, pulling his new documentary that the librarian ordered special for him out of the VCR, “They give you nightmares.”

She wasn’t wrong. 

Benji had vivid memories of sitting up in his little twin bed and staring, terrified, into the dark corners of his room, sure that the house was going to collapse under them from terminate damage or that a nuclear missile was going to hit the wipe them all out any second—he had just read a book on it over breakfast.

Even when he grew up a little, Benji couldn’t seem to shake his fear of the world. 

After some pleading, he got the teachers at school to let him stay in during recess and dust—not that dust was much more appetizing when you learned what it was made of, but at least there wasn’t any chance of being hit by lightning. 

It was there, on a rainy Thursday afternoon, that Benji discovered the behemoth of a computer tucked into a back corner of the library.  He had read everything he could on them, and now found himself running his fingers carefully across the keys. 

He knew it was out of date, by a few years, but they didn’t have one at home yet.  Standing in front of it, Benji realized that if he got good enough on a computer, he’d never have to go outside again. 

Unfortunately, like most childhood fantasies, things didn’t end up working out the way he imagined. 

Instead of staying inside, safe and protected by the robot butlers he had imagined as a kid, Benji fought his way through his first doctorate program at 20 and was recruited by an American spy agency at 30.  

Everything Benji had feared as a kid was now being thrown back at him on a daily basis; it was a wonder he was able to get through that first year. 

The real wonder came three years later when he filled out the paperwork to become a field agent. 

Benji still couldn’t remember an exact moment when things had changed.  One day he just looked up and realized that he wasn’t so scared anymore. 

But he did figure out, as he strode through the Kremlin next to his best-friend, that it was this man that had, however inadvertently, changed his whole world-view.    

If someone as reckless as Ethan Hunt could move through the world, unafraid and unfazed, then what did Benji have to fear?

\- -- -

The silence was suffocating.

Benji could practically feel it filling his throat, drowning his words before they even made it out of his mouth.

Every time he thought he had choked it down, he would look up and find Ethan watching him.  Ethan’s gaze was intense on a good day, but now—Benji could practically feel it burning holes through his skin.

Sitting on the edge of his bed and massaging his palm with his free hand, Benji searched for the courage to speak up—to do anything really. 

They couldn’t move on from this until one of them said something.  There was no need for discussion or conversation, just a simple offer to pull up the necessary paperwork would do.  Or an apology, a promise that nothing would change.

Benji pinched the skin of his palm between his fingers and already knew that would be a white lie, a band aid to cover a bullet hole, now that everything had already changed in ways none of them, even with all their skills, could erase. 

\- -- -

The mission was supposed to be difficult; they all knew going in that it was going to be a close one. 

“Benji, where the hell is that door!” Brandt’s voice was shrill in his ear.

“I’m working on it!” Benji shouted back as he typed frantically away on his tablet.  A few more clicks and the satisfying beep of a complete process finally filled the little storage closet. 

“You’re a gift Benji.” Ethan said.

An unbidden smile tugged at Benji’s lips.  He tucked away the memory of Ethan’s breathless words in his ear.  That would be a lovely daydream to entertain the next time that he wasn’t actively trying to keep his friends alive.    

“Anytime.” He replied, and flipped around to keep rewiring the panel behind him.

The next subroutine popped up on his screen, another set of red codes to break through, just as Benji suddenly cried out at a sharp pain.

He looked down in time to see the little feathered dart sticking out of his arm before someone grabbed him and bodily threw him against a wall. 

Benji tried to struggle and fight back, but the thug currently pinning him seemed to be more muscle than man so Benji decided it would make more sense to save his strength for now.

“Who are you?” A man with a jaw as sharp as glass came up next to the human tank, holstered his dart gun, and squared his feet.  Benji immediately recognized him as the head of security, Jackson Blackwell. 

Benji opened his mouth to warn the others, but all that came out was: “Benji Dunn.” 

Wait. 

Benji looked frantically to the little dark in his shoulder.  Wasn’t truth serum supposed to be a myth?

Jackson preened at his own genius, but at least had the dignity to restrain himself from monologuing on the subject.  He crossed his arms and pushed on with his questions. “Who do you work for?”

Benji bit the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood. 

Jackson smirked. “The more you try to fight it the worse the pain will get.”

As Jackson spoke, a slow, smoldering heat started to eat its way up Benji’s body.  Starting at his toes, it seemed to creep through his veins until every cell felt like it was on fire.

“The IMF.” As soon as he had blurted it out, a cooling wave washed over him.  Benji gasped out a breath and realized that he was already dripping sweat.

“And where are your other team members?”

The fire arrived even quicker this time, and burned even hotter.

“They’re in the vault.” Benji gasped for air.

“Excellent.” Jackson’s smirk deepened and he gestured to the thug who pulled out a syringe that he then jabbed into Benji’s neck.  More unidentified liquid started to run through him and he blacked out.

When Benji came to, there was a canvas bag over his head.  It seemed rather redundant but Benji just ignored the poor planning and tried to figure out what else was going on.

There was a nasty sour taste in the back of his throat and he realized that the truth serum was almost definitely still working its way through his system.  His hands and feet were bound to the chair he was sitting in, but the room seemed strangely empty. 

He tested the ropes but found them very secure.  At least—

Just as the thought started to form in his head, there was a loud banging sound and lots of loud shuffling and yelling.

“Put them over there.” Jackson’s voice cut through the ruckus.

“Benji?” Ethan was much quieter but it still cut through all the other noise right to Benji’s heart. 

While it wasn’t great that Ethan had been captured, Benji knew from years of experience that getting Ethan Hunt into the small room with an enemy of the IMF always meant bad news for said enemy’s plans of world domination.

It also meant that things were probably going to be okay now.

“Yup, that’s me.” Benji said, only realizing afterwards that he was answering Ethan’s question.  This truth serum stuff was no joke.

The bag over his head was pulled away and Benji blinked at the sudden light.  Across from him, he could see Ethan, Jane and Brandt all being tied to their own chairs and backed up against a wall of old computer servers. 

They were all sitting on a platform overlooking one of the empty missile silos left over from when this base was a military compound.  Benji tried to peak over and see the bottom, but the shaft just disappeared into black below them.

Jackson turned to Benji and pulled him out of his drug-addled attempts at reconnaissance. 

“Mr. Dunn,” Jackson’s teeth shined white under the fluorescent lights, “Would you care to identify your comrades in arms?”

“Ah,” Benji swallowed as he felt his skin prickle, “No. I would not.”  The tingling across his skin didn’t totally wash away this time, only lessened for a moment before it started to build again.

Benji gritted his teeth and met Ethan’s gaze.  “They got me with some kind of truth serum.”

Ethan’s expression hardened and his eyes flashed when he looked back to Jackson, “We’ve been trained to fight that.  We still won’t talk.”

“This is something new.” Jackson started to unbutton his shirt as he walked in a slow circle around Benji, “My own design actually.”

When he got back around to stand in front of Benji, he was wearing only a white tank top that showed off his tattoos.  Benji eyed them as Jackson leaned in a little closer. 

“Do you have family Benji?”

Benji’s jaw clenched with effort.

“Come on, no Mom and Dad waiting to hear back from their dashing little boy?”

“My Dad died.” Benji finally said, breathing heavily, “And my mom lives with her dog in the suburbs.”

Jackson hummed and leaned back.  He started pacing between Benji and the others, who were all staring at him. 

“Did you,” Jackson pointedly looked at Jane, “even know that?  Or are you all the kind of secret agents that never talk to each other; keep it all bundled up until someone gets hurt?”

Jane grimaced at him, and Benji could tell she was trying to carefully loosen her bounds. 

“Now,” Jackson turned back to Benji, “Give me the replacement codes.”

Benji felt a small swell of triumph.  The team had managed to swap out the codes before they were captured.  Mission accomplished.

Now they just needed to get out of here before Benji spilled his guts to this rat-bag.

Because, unfortunately, Benji was the one that had come up the new codes, programed the chip to carry them, and knew every pathway that they were currently constructing within Jackson’s computer system. 

Jackson took a step closer.  “It took me a while to create the serum we gave you.  The first few attempts were just poison, plain and simple.”  Benji felt the muscles of his legs start to cramp up, “But eventually we got to something that was just stable enough.  It will still kill you, if you resist too much.” He shrugged and looked to Benji.  “Give me the codes.”

Benji bit his lip and didn’t stop even after he tasted blood.  He clenched his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palm, doing everything in his power to fight the fire building inside him. 

With each second, another log was thrown on the blaze and Benji soon felt unbidden tears starting to stream down his face.  He wasn’t even crying, his eyes were just seeping from the heat and the pain and stress of it all. 

Tired of waiting, Jackson let out a huff, grabbed the back of Ethan’s chair and dragged him to the edge of the platform.  Benji watched helplessly as Jackson pushed the chair back, dangling Ethan over the pit. 

Both men looked to him. 

Jackson’s threat was clear.  He waited for Benji to speak with a hungry grin. 

Ethan meanwhile, looked a little scared, but not of the drop, or the shark dangling him over it—No, it was Benji’s slow self-combustion that Ethan was watching with a frantic concern. 

Sweat was pouring off of Benji as the fire ate away at his internal organs, licked its way up his veins and crawled along his skin.  It felt like he was burning up from the inside out.

He looked to the others.  Jane was still struggling against her bonds, while Brandt had gone silent as a rock.  Ethan was saying something but Benji couldn’t hear the words—he couldn’t hear anything.

The pain had become like a white noise, blocking out the world until the only thing he could hear was the beating of own his heart.  Even that seemed to slow down as the world turned to molasses around him.

Benji opened his mouth, with no idea what was going to come out of it, and found his throat bone dry.  He swallowed once and tried again.

“Ethan.” He could barely hear himself, “Ethan!” He had to yell to be heard over the static, “I’m in love with you!”

Like waking up after a nightmare, the whole world jolted back into place with disorientating speed. 

Sagging against his bonds as the pain rushed away under a wave of cold release, Benji struggled to catch his breath.  His heart was suddenly racing, when second before it had felt comatose.  

Once he finally managed to pull his head up, Benji saw that Ethan staring at him like he’d just turned blue.  He was tilting his head a little, with his brow all scrunched together.

Jackson’s grin was gone down, replaced by a bored frown.

“That’s all well and good but that still isn’t what I asked for.” Jackson said, pushing Ethan’s chair a little further back, “The codes.  Now.”

The fire started to build up, but compared to what Benji had just felt, this was nothing.  He just kept catching his breath, and Jackson let out a hissing sigh. 

“I’m going to ask you one more time—”

Jane ran into Jackson, hitting him so hard that they both flew across the floor.  For a moment, Ethan wobbled over the edge, the two back legs of his chair creaking.  Then Brandt ran up and grabbed him, pulling him back onto solid ground.

Ethan nodded his thanks and shuffled himself away from the edge as Brandt turned on the other guards. 

To stop the little fire building in his gut, Benji muttered the codes to himself under his breath as he pitched himself forward then backwards with all his strength and smashed the chair underneath him.

(One of these days, somebody was going to start tying them to metal chairs and he was going to hate it.)

Finally free, they all ran for the door.  Ethan called in Luther for extraction and it was an all-out sprint to get to the boat.

But once they were out, sagging to the deck as they motored into the sunset, Benji caught Ethan watching him and felt his stomach flip as he the full realization of what had happened finally caught up with him. 

A few seconds later, he hauled himself to the side of the boat and threw up over the side. 

\- -- -

There was a dry sucking sound across the room as Ethan drew in a deep breath.

Benji looked up and saw that Ethan was the one looking away now, watching the lights of the city glitter through the glass door that led onto their hotel patio.  It was a gorgeous view, but all Benji could seem to see was the way that light sent shadows dancing across Ethan’s tense jaw line.

It was not the first time Benji had studied Ethan’s face, but it felt different this time.  It was too intimate, a violation of a trust that had already been broken.  But Benji still couldn’t pull his eyes away.

“I never thought—” Ethan rubbed a hand across the lower half of his face before he looked down at his shoes, “I didn’t know.”

“You weren’t supposed to.” Benji bit his lip.  “I never meant for you to know.”

Ethan’s head jerked up, his brows furrowed.  “You were never going to tell me?”

“I knew this is what would happen, so…no.”

“Wait,” Ethan turned in his seat on the corner of the mattress and looked at Benji, “How long have you—kept this a secret?”

“Uh,” Benji felt like he was being interrogated again, but none of the answers were rolling, unbidden, off his tongue this time, “I don’t know.”

Ethan seemed to realize how intensely he was staring and finally looked down at his hands.  Benji followed his gaze and noticed, for the first time, how Ethan’s hands were trembling.

The pit in Benji’s stomach yawned even wider.  He had seen Ethan do impossible things, defuse bombs, scale skyscrapers, save the entire freaking world, without so much as batting an eyelash. 

But a few unavoidable words from Benji had turned that unstoppable man into a mess in front of him.

“Ethan,” Benji clenched his hands into fists, “I’m so sorry.  I’ll pack my things and get a flight first thing tomorrow—”

Ethan stood up abruptly and took a step towards Benji.  “No that’s—”

“—I don’t want to put the team as risk—”

“Benji—”

“—It’ll be for the best—”

“Benji stop talking!”

Cowed into silence, Benji just stared at the man standing in front of him.  Ethan’s eyes were blown wide and his chest was rising and falling like he had just gone for a run. 

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Benji blinked.  “I’m not?”

“No.” Ethan finally looked away again and started pacing, “You’re the best there is; you’re staying on this team.”

“Oh.” Benji couldn’t help but feel a little swell of pride rise in his chest, even as everything else still coiled around his fear and uncertainty, “Thanks.”

“I—” Ethan huffed, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know what to do Benji.”

Benji started to speak again, but was cut off before he managed to say anything by a quick hand gesture from Ethan. 

“I know,” Ethan was speaking slowly, like he was constructing his sentences word by word, “what I should do.  But I also know what I want to do.” 

Benji was reminded of how Ethan got when he was planning a mission, his head so caught up with different outcomes and ideas that the rest of the world just sort of disappeared.

Pacing back and forth a few more time, Ethan put both his hands on his hips and stared intently at the floor.

“What—” Benji started quietly, watching all of the tense lines of Ethan’s profile, “what do you want to do?”

Ethan stopped, going totally still.

“I want to do what you did; to tell the truth.”

The air in the room seemed to freeze, as Benji watched Ethan slowly turn to face him.

“I want to—” Ethan clenched and released his fists, breathing heavily through his nose as he took another halting step towards Benji, “I want to kiss you.”

Benji stared at Ethan, wide-eyed, as his heart rate spiked.  “What?”

“You’re my best friend Benji, and my teammate, things like this never end well.  So I spent years just thanking my lucky stars that you didn’t feel the same.  But now—” Ethan’s hands twitched at his sides.

“I—You—” Benji stammered, confused as hell, and pointed at Ethan then his own chest, “You like me?”

Ethan let out a huff, some of the tension finally draining out of him as a smile tugged at his lips.  “Yeah Benji, I like you.”

“Like, _like like_ me?”

Ethan chuckled a little, his little smile growing into one of his famous grins.  “Yeah.”

That grin always made even the worst mission seem possible and it was always infectious, even now. 

“Really?”

“How many times do I have to say it?”

“It just doesn’t sound real.”

“Trust me Benji,” Ethan took another step forward, “this is real.”

They had been closer than this.  Hiding from patrols in storage closets, patching each other up after fights, hell, they were nearly flush when they sat next to each other at the opera.

But this was different.  The air between them was charged through with a new kind of electricity; it seemed to breath and pulse around them. 

Benji was frozen in place as Ethan kept moving, eating up the distance between them until he his legs bumped up against the bed Benji was sitting on. 

Leaning down, Ethan’s smile faded a little as he brought a hand up to Benji’s cheek. 

Benji could feel Ethan’s breath on his face, Ethan’s callused palm against his cheek, and it still wasn’t enough.  Grabbing onto the front of Ethan’s shirt, Benji pulled him the rest of the way down, pressing his lips to Ethan’s.

They both stilled for a moment, frozen in a simple, chaste kiss. 

Benji’s mind was racing, even as his fingers curled tighter into Ethan’s shirt.  This was all such a bad idea, for so many reasons.  Ethan had single-handedly saved the world more times than anyone could count and now Benji was jeopardizing all that.  He was literally complicating world peace over some pesky _feelings_. 

Then, Ethan’s tongue licked along his lips and Benji’s heart rate started to outpace his over-thinking brain.

Benji’s hands let go of the shirt and went to the back of Ethan’s thighs.  Without much coaxing, Ethan climbed up onto the mattress and straddled Benji’s hips, his fingers carding through Benji’s hair. 

Blood rushed through Benji as his hands moved up to the hem of Ethan’s shirt.  His fingers tugged at the fabric, sneaking under to find the equally hot skin underneath. 

The heat was everywhere, molten and hazy. 

Benji was already breathing fast but his chest was suddenly getting tighter and he gasped for air around the lump in his throat. 

Everything was too hot.  Benji blinked rapidly and brought a hand to his heaving chest.  He couldn’t speak, his throat was caught and his lungs weren’t—

“ _Benji!_ ”

Ethan’s voice cut through the haze and Benji came back to himself with a gasping start.

“Are you okay?” Ethan had slipped off his thighs at some point and was sitting next to him on the bed.  Watching Benji’s anxiously, Ethan had his hands on Benji’s shoulders, holding him steady an arm’s length away. 

“I—” Benji shook his head and brought a hand up to his sweaty brow, “I don’t know what happened.”

Ethan’s lip pulled back into a thin line and he squeezed Benji’s shoulders.  “We need to get you checked out by a specialist. Who knows what that stuff did to you.”

“I think I puked it all out already.  Like I said before, I’m feel fine—”

“We don’t know what this stuff is,” Ethan let go of Benji and stood up, “or how it could still be affecting you—” Ethan’s phone was already half-way to his ear when Benji grabbed his arm.

“Can we—” Whatever had possessed Benji to grab Ethan in the first place left Benji in that moment and he stammered at the other man, “I—Can we talk about—” Benji made an awkward gesture between them, “What was just happening?  First?  For like a moment?”

Ethan’s expression softened.  He slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned to kneel in front of Benji.

“Well,” Ethan took both of Benji’s hands in his, “I thought it was fun and I’d love to get back to it once we make sure that you’re okay.”

“Oh.” Benji’s face started to heat up again, and his back tensed up on instinct at the sensation.  Maybe Ethan was right about this seeing a specialist thing.

“Does that sound good?” Ethan was still watching him with that unbroken gaze of his. 

“Yeah.” Benji knew that he sounded dumb right now, but there wasn’t much else his exhausted brain could manage to come up. 

“Good.” Ethan’s smile was a bright spark of light in this confusing whirlwind. Benji latched onto it, just as he latched onto Ethan’s hand, and let himself get pulled upright.

\- -- -

“I love you too.” Ethan said, pressing a kiss to Benji’s bare shoulder.  Goosebumps prickled across Benji’s skin, even as warmth bloomed in his chest. 

His voice was quiet as he asked, “Are you sure?”

Ethan hummed into Benji’s skin, his fingers ghosting across Benji’s side.  “Of course.  You were.”

Benji rolled over so that he could squint up at Ethan.  “Uh yeah, I didn’t have much a choice.”

Ethan traced a nonsense pattern into Benji’s upper arm, refusing to look at him.  “And I don’t either—not anymore.”  Ethan finally caught Benji’s gaze.

Benji swallowed thickly and finished rolling over so that he could pull Ethan flush against his chest.

“I know,” Benji pressed a soft kiss to Ethan’s hair, “I know.”

\- -- -

Cursing, Benji pressed his back against the rough brick wall and tried to catch his breath. 

His heart was hammering so hard that it hurt.  He put a hand to his chest and tried to do the breathing exercise Ethan had taught him. 

“Benji?”

Ilsa’s voice on the comms jolted him back into focus.  Pushing himself off from the wall, he peeked through the window above him.  A bullet shattered the pane above his head and he ducked back down.   

“I’m pinned.” He shouted over the din as more and more bullets hit the window, raining glass down on him.  He could feel the vibrations from the impact of the bullets running down his spine—an offbeat staccato trying to overwhelm his pounding pulse.  “They’ve got some kind of machine gun, I don’t know—,” Benji’s eyes froze on a grate built into the floor a few feet ahead of him. 

Getting down on top his stomach, he pulled himself along the floor towards it.  He knew that the glass was digging into his hands and slicing through his clothes—he could already see the blood starting to stain his skin—but he felt almost nothing. 

For once, it seemed, his deep-fried nerves was actually good for something. 

His fingers were slick with blood and sweat, but after a few tries he managed to get a hold on the grate.  Pulling it aside, he found a tunnel leaning down with a ladder built into the side. 

Without looking back, he dropped into the dark and prayed that it wasn’t a dead end.

\- -- -

Holed up in a closet with a stolen gun and not nearly enough blood in his system, Benji was starting to lose consciousness.  He had taken a big piece of glass out of his side earlier—a hauntingly painless operation—and tried to bandage it as best he could, but he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer like this. 

The woozy numbness trying to drag him under was far too close to his day to day at this point and he was almost ready to give in to the comfortably familiarity of it when the door in front of him was ripped open. 

“ _Benji_.”

His eyes still adjusting to the sudden light, it looked to Benji like Ethan arrived out of a bright, white cloud.  Angel or not, Benji felt himself relax at the sight, a deep sense of comfort settling in him as Ethan rushed forward and kneeled in front of him. 

Ethan’s eyes went wide when he saw the all the blood, but Benji didn’t care so much anymore.  Now that Ethan was here, things would be okay. 

“Are you in pain?” Ethan asked, all quiet and frantic.

Benji shook his head and reached out, tracing the line of Ethan’s jaw with one of his shaking, blood-stained fingers. 

“Benji—” Ethan took Benji’s hand in his, “I’m going to get you out of this, okay?”

“Of course.”

Ethan looked scared, something that upset Benji on many levels, but he didn’t say anything else as Ethan picked him up, bridal style, and carried him out of the hiding spot. 

Benji glanced down the hall for a moment, then curled into Ethan’s chest, not wanting to see the bodies. 

“You shouldn’t have come back for me.” Benji manage to mumble into Ethan’s shirt. 

“I won’t leave you behind.  Ever.”

The sour taste of guilt rising in the back of his throat was the last thing Benji remembered before the darkness overtook him. 

When he woke up in the hospital the next day, it only took one look at Ethan, asleep in the chair next to him, to bring the taste back, stronger than ever. 

\- -- -

By the time the damage from the glass had healed, Benji’s had lost too much sensation and fine motor skills to get reapproved for field work. 

A month later, it had gotten so bad that it took him 5 minutes to type his own name. 

It was only a matter of time, but when the letter arrived on his desk it still knocked all the wind right out of him. 

The Secretary had written it himself, dismissing him personally and with commendation.  The guy at the door even saluted him on his way out. 

“I don’t deserve this.”

Ethan paused in buttoning up Benji’s jacket.  “You do.”

“They’re only going through this hullabaloo because I’m—”

“They’re doing it because you were one of the best agents anyone has seen in a long time.”

Benji huffed, but before he could say anything, Ethan took his face in his hands. 

“You deserve _more_ than this.”

Benji stilled and let out a breath.  He leaned down and pressed his forehead against Ethan’s. 

“ _You_ deserve more than this.” Benji said, closing his eyes and trying to remember what Ethan’s callused palms felt like when they rested against his skin like this.

The ceremony was nice, in the end.  Luther had to leave halfway through but no one said anything.  They all understood. 

The finality of it, of the secretary pinning the medal onto Benji’s jacket was strangely calming.  This was only the first goodbye, one that would have to be followed by so many more, but it was tangible and right in front of him.  He couldn’t ignore it.

This was real, this was happening, and for the first time, Benji saw that and accepted it—even if no one else would. 

\- -- -

“There has to be another way—no you listen to me!”

Benji stopped, poised to unlock the front door of the apartment.  

“You said that there would be progress by now, but the nerve decay is getting worse!” 

Ducking his head, Benji pressed his forehead against the door. 

“At this rate—listen to me—at this rate, he’s got a month, maybe, before—Don’t—if you hang up on me, I will go down to your office and personally—” There was a frustrated noise before silence finally descended.

Benji took a few deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, before he pushed the key into the lock and opened the door.

After stepping into the apartment, Benji quietly toed off his shoes and dropped his keys onto the side table next a row of the pill bottles that needed to be disposed of—the ones that hadn’t worked. 

Light poured from the kitchen and filled the rest of the apartment with slices of light.  Benji stepped into the light and saw Ethan chopping up something on the kitchen counter. 

“Hey,” Benji said, a little too carefully, “I’m back.”

Ethan stilled.  They both knew that Ethan had noticed the moment Benji started to unlock the door; they both knew that Benji had heard it all. 

“Hey.” Ethan said, finally turned around to face him. 

Benji blinked, struck by how fragile Ethan looked.  It was wrong, on a fundamental level, and Benji hated that he was the one throwing everything so off center that even Ethan Hunt was breaking down.  Again. 

“I’m sorry.” Benji said, unable to stop himself. 

Ethan blinked at him.  “Benji.”

“No.  I’m sorry.” He said it again and something in him broke.  He brought a hand to his face, curling in on himself as he started to cry.

Ethan was at his side in an instant, pulling him into his chest.  He was trying to be calming, but the embrace only reminded Benji of all the things he couldn’t feel anymore; of how numb his whole world had become.

Gasping against Ethan’s shoulder, Benji’s breath caught in his throat.  Coughing, Benji pulled back a little.

Doubling over, Benji couldn’t stop coughing.  Ethan stepped away to give him space, but kept a hand on his back, supporting him as he tried to get his lungs back into working order. 

After what felt like minutes but couldn’t have been anywhere near that long, Benji finally managed to get a proper breath in.  He was shaking as he pulled his arm back and saw that the sleeve of his shirt was now stained with little pin-pricks of red.  He stared at the spots of color, unable to pull his eyes away.

Ethan saw it too.

Benji looked up and met his gaze, a drop of fear falling through his chest.  Because, Ethan didn’t look fragile anymore—he looked like he had a plan, a schematic already laid out in his head. 

Benji knew that look well and if Ethan was there—thinking and calculating and figuring out how to save him—than he wasn’t _here_.  He was running as fast as he could in the other direction, already preparing to jump off the rooftop instead of facing the truth that Benji had known for ages.

He was dying. 

The irony of it was almost unbelievable; if it wasn't so scary Benji might have laughed. But no matter what they did, the very thing that brought them together was now going to, inevitably, tear them apart.

And Ethan couldn’t face that.  Even worse, he was trying to fix it.  For once, there wasn’t a group of assassins to kill or a bomb to defuse.  Just a bad batch of truth-serum made by a dead-man.    

“I’m going to call Dr. Parker.”

“Ethan, wait—”

Not listening, Ethan stepped away and pulled out his phone.

Helpless, in pain, and with no idea what to do, Benji just watched as Ethan started talking the moment someone picked up. 

\- -- -

The doctor only confirmed what Benji already knew.  The one after her said “I’m sorry” too many times.  When the one after him tried to refer them to a hospice care company, Ethan nearly took a swing at him. 

Still red-faced, even after they had managed to escape to the park in front of the hospital, Ethan paced back and forth in front of the bench Benji was sitting on.  “This shouldn’t be happening.”

“Ethan—”

“I’m going to call that other doctor.”  He was already dialing.

_“Ethan—”_

“Hello?  My name is Ethan Hunt and—”

“ _Stop!_ ” Benji stood up and grabbed Ethan’s phone out of his hand, something he only managed with the element of surprise.  He ended the call and looked back to Ethan, who was staring, shocked, at him. 

“It’s over.” Benji’s voice was steady, his stance strong, even as his mind raced.  He wasn’t scared anymore. 

Ethan, on the other hand, looked like he was about to crumble.  The surreal role reversal only drove home to Benji how bad things were getting.  This needed to end now, or there was no hope of Ethan ever moving on from this.

“You need to come to terms with it.”

Ethan looked down and away, to the pond across the park from them.  Benji watched Ethan’s jaw twitch as he ground his teeth.

Finally, Ethan looked down at his clenched fists and said, “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.  You just don’t want to.”

“There has to still—”

“Ethan.” Benji huffed.  Taking in a breath, he stepped closer and brought a careful hand to Ethan’s cheek, turning his face up, “You’re going to go crazy and ruin your life if you keep clinging to this fantasy of me getting better.  It’s not going to happen.”

Benji bit his lip.  He could see the pain he was causing in Ethan’s eyes and wanted to stop, to apologize, to let his false hopes run wild.

But it was time for Benji to do what he did best: Save Ethan Hunt.

“I’m going to die soon Ethan.”

Ethan was starting to cry, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m going to die and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Ethan’s hands came up, grabbing Benji by the shoulders and pulling him even closer as he struggled to stay composed.  “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

“You’re going to keep living.” Benji leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, “And saving the world and smiling and laughing and pissing of the government and everything else you do.”

“I don’t want to keep going without you—”

“I know, I know.” Benji pulled back and pushed some of Ethan’s hair back from his face, “And I don’t want to die, but we don’t really have a say in that.”

“Benji,” It came out more sob than word, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Benji finally pulled Ethan into a tight hug, “I love you and that’s never going to stop—you don’t get a say in that either.”

Ethan was mostly beyond talking at this point and just held onto Benji like he could keep him on this plane of existence through sheer force of will.

They both knew it wouldn’t work; for the first time they both knew the irrevocable truth. 

\- -- -

The worst part of going out was the staring. 

Most people tried to be polite, but others weren’t so nice.  Benji could just see the questions in their eyes, the concern.  What happened?  How did that gorgeous man end up with someone who needs so much care? 

Tucking Benji’s coat in a little tighter around him, Ethan made a humming noise.

Benji glared at him, already knowing what he was going to say.

“Stop thinking so much.” Ethan pressed a quick kiss to Benji’s cheek. 

Already knowing what was bothering Benji, Ethan glanced over his shoulder at the nosy suburban moms at the other table.  Then he turned back to Benji and smirked.

Leaning down, Ethan caught Benji off guard with a much more passionate kiss. 

When Ethan pulled back, it took Benji a moment to remember what the heck he had even been so worried about.  Then he saw the owlish stares that the other patrons in the restaurant were hastily trying to hide. 

“That was a sneaky trick.” Benji said, smiling as he glanced up at Ethan. 

“It’s in the job description.” Ethan’s smirk was evident in every word as he stepped behind Benji to pull his wheelchair out from behind the table. 

“Where to next?” Benji asked as Ethan wheeled him out of the restaurant.

“You’ll see.”

After the day in the park, Ethan immediately took a leave of absence that no one questioned.  He promised to make the last few months count and Benji let him.  Something in Ethan still needed a goal, a problem to solve, and this had finally taken the place of finding an impossible, nonexistent cure.

It was progress and Benji was glad to see it.  Knowing that Ethan might be able to move on, to have a good and happy life without him, made the bad days look a little less bleak.

Today, it turns out; Ethan was taking him to the opera—neither of them had had the time to even think about it in ages.  Benji forgot how much he missed it until he started to get all emotional at the end of the first act. 

Looking over at one point, he watched the colors and lights flash across all the angles of Ethan’s face.  Maybe it was the music, or the lights, or the emotion bubbling up in his chest, but he was suddenly struck by a memory of that night, all those months ago, when everything in his life had changed in too many ways.

Ethan pulled his attention away from the stage as Benji reached over and laced their fingers together.

His brows scrunching together, even as his lips quirked up into a little smile, Ethan gave Benji a questioning look.

In response, Benji just squeezed Ethan’s hand as tightly as he could.  He leaned over, brought his mouth right up next to Ethan’s ear and whispered, “Thank you.”

Ethan smiled and looked into his eyes.  “Of course.  I love you.”

Benji smiled back; then looked away so that Ethan wouldn’t see him tear up. 

But even as the act came to its swelling conclusion, he didn’t let go of Ethan’s hand.  He knew he would have to eventually, but not yet. 

Even without the heat and texture that he knew he should be able to feel, Benji held on. 

He held on.

It was another two months before he had to be hospitalized.  The doctors had no idea how he managed to last so long, but Benji knew something they didn't.  

He had seen it in field agents for years—it was always fear that did them in. 

And Benji wasn’t scared anymore. 


End file.
